The Racetrack
by JupiStrahan
Summary: A glimpse into how Haruka thinks, and what her destiny made her sacrifice.


Author's note   
First of all, Sailor Moon is a copyright of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha, Toei, Bandai, DiC, and probably some other people. All the names and stuff in this fanfic are used without permission. It's my first POV fic, so please forgive the oddity of it all! 

The Racetrack - by Jupiter Strahan

I met Haruka on a racetrack. In a garage near the racetrack, anyway. He sat there on the hood of his car, wiping oil off his strong, blackened hands and onto the muddled and blotched navy apron neatly tied around his slim figure.

I hesitated for a few moments in the doorway to watch him gracefully adjusting his car before rapping my knuckles on the open door and casually stepping inside. "Tenoh-san?" I called, almost wishing I didn't have to disrupt his work; it was so fun just to watch him do what he obviously excelled at.

He looked up at me and I was immediately enchanted by his eyes, beautiful pale sapphire gems that glittered with determination and passion. After quickly cleaning his hands again, he hopped off his stool and welcomed me with an elegant bow. 

"Can I help you?" He replied, knocking his helmet off its hook and under his arm in a graceful sweep of an arm. I must have been staring, because after a moment he grinned and beckoned for me to come in, to which I happily complied.

I let Haruka lead me up to his car before speaking. "I saw you doing practice laps this morning." He nodded and I continued, "Anyway, you are Tenoh Haruka, right?" He arched an eyebrow and nodded again, seemingly amused by my ignorance. "I work for the Juuban District's local newspaper, and for my first column I was assigned to write an article about someone in our community. I've heard a lot about you, and I was hoping you would let me interview you for my column. Will you?" I knew I sounded almost desperate, but that was only because everyone else I had tried to interview had rejected me in favor of a more experienced columnist who could boost their reputation.

I was relieved when he winked at me and joked, "As long as you don't make me look too bad." I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding, and glanced around for a place where I could begin my interview.

"You said you'd heard a lot about me; what have you heard?" Haruka asked while I leaned against the wall.

"Well, I have a friend who attends Mugen Academy, Kurumoni Amano-"

"The track coach."

"Yeah. Well, for the past couple months he just can't stop talking about you. Last time I spoke to him the first words out of his mouth were 'You won't believe it! Haruka's time is 8.35! Crossed the finish a full two seconds before anyone else!' A few days before that I was at the Motorcycle races with my brother and saw you wiping the track with the other racers. You're really into racing, aren't you?"

The whole time I was speaking Haruka had been listening intently with a tiny grin grin playing the corners of his mouth. "Well, not so much racing as..." he trailed off, lost in thought suddenly. Seconds passed wordlessly as I watched Haruka gaze solemnly at his helmet. I shifted uneasily, and Haruka began again, "I used to dream of being a famous racer, but there are other, more important things nowadays. I have obligations that have changed my perspective on racing. It's not my goal in life anymore, it's just a pastime when I'm not busy."

"What sort of obligations? You could easily achieve your dream with your racing skill, so what's holding you back?"

"There are more important things in life than racing. Some sacrifices must be made for people to be happy, and one of those things is my racing. It used to be my dream, but it isn't my dream anymore. I don't want to talk about this anymore, alright?" His voice grew harder as he finished, clearly showing that we were done on that topic.

I thought to dig a little deeper in the subject in attempts to get him to open up again, but I thought better of it when I looked at his eyes again, clouded in pain. It wasn't physical pain, but I suddenly realized that whatever it was that forced him to give up his dream, it still hurt to acknowledge his own loss. I glanced around the garage again in hopes of finding something else to talk about.

My eyes fell upon the car Haruka had been working on before I had interrupted. "Are you going to be in the race this afternoon?" I asked, pushing off the wall and stepping towards the machine.

His tone lightened considerably as he joined me at the side of the car "Yeah, You'd better believe it! I'm gonna beat the tar out of those other guys, too."

"You seem confident."

He rested an arm on my shoulder and broke out into into an genuine smile "Completely. The only way I could lose is if I died before the race started." I was surprised to see an almost predatory gleam in his eyes and he looked at his car, and then at me.

I examined her car while standing in silence at Haruka's side. It was obviously a custom model; I had never seen another car like it. I had been pleasantly surprised when I saw it this morning for the first time, flying around the track with astounding precision and control. It had no roof, and I could see Haruka in the driver's seat, his face bent with determination and hair flapping wildly in the wind. I suddenly recalled that He wasn't wearing her helmet during the practice run.

"You weren't wearing a helmet this morning."

"Of course not. I don't need one."

"Oh?"

"I have no fear for my safety when I do my practice runs. I only worry when there is some other idiot on the track who's trying to beat me. They drive dangerously."

"So you're the only one on the track who's competent during a race?"

"Yes. They're so worried about beating me that they throw caution to the wind. They can't accept the fact that I'm only in my first year of high school and I can beat them all without breaking a sweat."

"Oh."

"You're skeptical."

"I certainly am."

"You'll see."

I snorted good humoredly, then ran a finger lightly over the car's body. It was a smooth, metallic gold, and was parked where it practically glowed in the sun filtering through the room's skylight.

"You like it?" He asked from over my shoulder. I nodded in appreciation. He walked to the front of the car and popped the hood up. "If you thought the outside was nice," he said with pride, "You'll love the engine."

I joined Haruka at the grill and peered under the hood. I was once again in awe at how much money and effort building this engine must taken.

"I built it all myself." He nearly glowed in satisfaction. The engine was amazing, but to think that one man who wasn't even an engineer could have built that whole thing by hand was unbelievable.

"Who helped you build this thing?" I asked.

He arched an eyebrow, and I realized that I had just been incredibly rude. "Nobody," he repeated. "I built it all myself."

I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had been flirting with this guy, then I end up completely offending him! "Um, how did you manage to pay for it?" I asked, digging thorugh my purse for a piece of gum to hide my face from his scrutiny.

"My partner Kaioh Michiru deals with the funding. Michiru supplies me with everything I need, or ever will need." He replied with a fierce grin as he gestured at a framed photo that rested on a toolbox across the room. I could barely make out two figures. One of them was Haruka, sitting in the driver's seat of his car. The other was a smaller, eyecatching woman leaning lissomely on the hood.

"Have a seat, pretty girl," he offered, opening the passenger's side door. His voice had once again changed to a more jovial tone, and he wore a mischievious smirk that surprised me yet again.After placing my gum in my mouth I accepted with a smile, but was a little bit nervous. He and Michiru looked like a couple in that photo, and I had heard from more than one source that he only let Michiru sit in the passenger seat. I suddenly felt as though I was invading her territory. 

Haruka shut the door as I got in, tossed his helmet back onto its hook, unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, and dropped the stained apron onto the stool by the toolbox. My face grew warm as he opened his door and sat in the driver's seat. I looked up at him is shock as he placed a strong, well-muscled arm over my shoulders. 

"So, shall we begin?" He whispered, staring into my eyes for something. My body tensed and my face flushed a deep scarlet.

"I... I... don't think..."

"I'm coming in, Haruka." A voice came from the sillowette walking through the open door. Haruka turned to the elegant young lady who stood in the doorway, then gave a goodnatured sigh and turned back to face me, "I'd like you to meet my partner, Kaioh Michiru."

I looked up at Michiru again fearing I'd see the promise of a slow, painful death written across her face, and to my relief, she just beamed at me. Haruka let himself out of the car, and opened my door. My escape.

"What were you two doing, Haruka?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh, nothing Michiru. Just showing this lovely young lady my car."

"Oh?"

"I was about to show her how well I drive. She was skepical."

"That story doesn't match the look on her face." She replied to Haruka, then whispered in my ear gently, "Haruka is just playing, don't take it too seriously."

"What are you talking about, Michiru?" Haruka asked, trying to look confused and failing.

I stood up, "I think I should be going now..." I trailed off.

"Leaving? So soon? Aren't you coming to the race? It starts in an hour." 

Haruka looked more than disappointed that I was going. I nodded and headed for the door, stopping at the door to bid them goodbye. "Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I'll see you at the race-"

I was interrupted by soft, stiffled laughter. Haruka was looking, in confusion (real confusion this time), at Michiru, who couldn't contain her giggles."What's wrong, Michiru?" he asked.

She glanced at me, tried to regain her composure, them whispered something into Haruka's ear. His eyes grew wide and his face turned a rosy pink beofre cracking an awkward grin at me. "Yeah, I'll see you at the race. ---Ow!" Michiru elbowed him in the ribs. "Okay, Okay! Calm down, Michiru!" he exclaimed.

I stared blankly.

"Excuse me a moment," Haruka said, then turned around and opened his shirt, and turned back to face me. Underneath the shirt was a blue sports bra, and a very small, feminine waist. I choked on my gum. Haruka was a woman! Michiru burst into uncontrollable laughter at the look on my face.

Haruka placed her hands on her hips and, in a matter-of-fact tone, stated, "I never said I was a man."

  
~ Owari ~

Jupiter Strahan  
JupiStrahan@hotmail.com

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